


Mind the Gap

by sherlock221Bismymuse



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Falling In Love, Light Angst, M/M, Mycroft in Love, Mycroft is the best, Other, Sherlock in Love, Sibling Incest, True Love, holmescest, mylock, the holmes brothers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-29 17:59:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15734553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlock221Bismymuse/pseuds/sherlock221Bismymuse
Summary: The battle to hide his feelings for Sherlock had been so difficult and so overwhelming that it had been easier for him to simply hide all feelings altogether. After all, the best place to hide a tree is inside a forest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I keep getting attacked by plot bunnies involving these two gorgeous geniuses and the longer WIP keeps getting set aside while I write these shorter ones down ! But I guess some of us can't get enough of these two so no one is really complaining :P Hope you enjoy it ! Comments are always a thrill <3

Sherlock being his usual genius self was always testing limits, even pushing limits. His own and those of others. His ‘transport’, his mind, his best friend, his brother, the wall--- all could become subjects of experiments when the fancy was upon him.

The latest one involved him and his lover.

Oh well, little did he understand, even now, that some things are limitless.

.

.

Six months ago, after a near fatal overdose that he had been rescued from ( thanks to the combined forces of a beleaguered Detective Inspector of Scotland Yard and the all-seeing minor official in the British Government), he had been forced to spend time living with his older brother after he was discharged from the hospital.

The first night that he moved in there, Mycroft had looked in to see him sleeping and had simply been unable to keep himself composed any longer.

He had nearly lost him that day.

The person who was first and foremost in his thoughts every single day. Had been since he could remember. He also remembered like it was yesterday, the occasion of his homecoming from being away an entire year with his new job in London.

One look at the stunning and brilliant creature who had greeted him at the door and he realized that his infinite love had suddenly made a quantum leap way beyond the brotherly and that this young man was in fact, quite obviously, the love of his life.

He had always loved his mind and his soul and now he also wanted to worship his body.

Pandora’s box had flipped open without any warning and he had scrambled to shut it back down. He had continued to struggle with these feelings for an entire decade after that but had managed to hide them extremely well. He had done such a good job of pushing his brother away that their relationship now consisted mostly of sarcasm and arguments and resentment.

All of which was very real from his brother’s side and a wonderful ongoing piece of acting from his.

The battle to hide his feelings for Sherlock had been so difficult and so overwhelming that it had been easier for him to simply hide all feelings altogether. After all, the best place to hide a tree is inside a forest.

He could live with the nickname ‘Ice Man’ rather than bring shame upon his family with his sinful desires.

In any case, with his new job he had become used to functioning in the easy- to- miss spaces between what everyone saw and what no one could see. He had learnt to be present without being obvious, detached without being indifferent, relaxed without being unguarded and discreet without being vague.

The first time he had travelled by the London Underground when he moved to that city for his job, he had looked at the platform and smiled.

Mind the Gap.

Could have been his life’s motto.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few beats, he moved his chair closer and held his brother’s hand, delicately weaving their fingers together.  
> This much he would allow himself.

But tonight, seeing Sherlock sleeping in his bed, looking so vulnerable, and having just snatched him back from the jaws of death, he could not restrain himself any more. The gap was closing and he seemed to be drawn inexorably beyond it.

He had sat on the chair next to him and was watching him, his mind filled with terror at the realization of how close he had come to losing him, when Sherlock sighed in his sleep and shifted to turn towards him. He held his breath, waiting, but the younger man was still asleep.

After a few beats, he moved his chair closer and held his brother’s hand, delicately weaving their fingers together.

_This much he would allow himself._

With his other hand, he gently swept away the soft curls from his brow.

_This much he would allow himself today._

A single tear rolled out of his eye and he wiped it away on his sleeve.

_This much he would allow himself after all these years._

_._

_._

But as inevitable as the rising tide under the full moon, while he sat there watching his beloved brother sleep, bit by bit his resistance crumbled and he found himself closing the gap and bending over that beautiful face to kiss him on the forehead, more as a benediction, when those impossible blue- green eyes flew open, stunningly awake in an instant and in a single sharp glance his secret had been deduced.

He flushed and tried to untangle their fingers but Sherlock held them tight and struggled to sit up, leaning on one elbow.

“Mycie” he said softly, in a voice still rough from sleep, and before Mycroft could pull away or apologize or do any of the things his brain was screaming at him to do, Sherlock had pulled him in closer and was kissing him on the lips.

It was a hesitant soft kiss which he knew he should pull back from but….. this…….this was electricity and starburst and an entire symphony orchestra………his brain was humming and his blood was pounding in his ears and the sounds Sherlock was making …...it seemed to him as though time had slowed down so he could fulfil the deep craving of more than a decade in a scant few seconds.

When he did pull back finally and was able to speak again, Mycroft whispered, “Sherlock don’t. Please. We shouldn’t.”

“But you want to.” said the genius. Not asking. Not judging. Not even curious. Simple statement of fact. _Obviously._

“But it’s wrong Sherlock.” Mycroft replied, eyes closed now, unable to deny his brother’s deduction. Articulating the argument he had been having with himself for years upon years at this point.

But then the other side of the argument had never been defended by his brilliant brother earlier.

“We didn’t make the rules Mycie.” Sherlock said, sitting up in the bed. “We don’t need to follow them. We are not hurting anyone.”

_And it was amazing. I think I may be already addicted to kissing you._

Mycroft had sat silently in front of him, unable and even unwilling to argue anymore, looking anywhere but at him. His entire struggle was written plainly on his face and it did not take a genius to deduce. Sherlock looked at him, reading the despair and the desire on his brother's face, as plain as an open book. _How had he missed it ? How incredibly hard it must have been for his brother to have hidden such an intensity of feelings from a genius like him and for so long?!_

Sherlock swung his legs off the bed so he was sitting facing him directly. He had held his brother’s face gently with both hands and said “Look at me Mycie. I want this too. I have just realized that this is what I have been craving…… for a very long time now. The drugs have just been a way to fill that empty space inside me. I have missed you Mycie. So much. I have been so blind......How long I have made you wait for this….” And he rested his forehead against his brother’s, waiting.

“Please My.” He said softly when the seconds seemed to stretch out to eternity, knowing that Mycroft would probably not stop him if he leaned in, but wanting him to give it of his own choice.

_Please please please My!_

And was there ever any universe in which Mycroft would deny Sherlock what he really wanted?

Thus had begun the most unexpectedly miraculous time in their lives.

.

.

They could not live together permanently without raising too many eyebrows so Mycroft had managed to find him a flat on Baker Street and eventually a flatmate had joined him. It was fortunate that this flatmate took to him so quickly and so well and grew both loyal and fond within days. That meant a huge load off Mycroft’s shoulders who worried incessantly when his brother was out of his sight.

They managed to find time to be with each other at Mycroft’s home as often as they could, given the unpredictable nature of the work they both did and the need to hide their meetings from John.

When they did meet, Sherlock could barely keep his hands off Mycroft. When he spent the night with him he loved dressing him up in the mornings as much as he loved gently undressing him in the evenings. He took special delight in teasing him with a slow unbuttoning of his waistcoat and the delicate removal of the sleeve garters and cufflinks. They would shower together and make love, sometimes sweet and tender, sometimes passionate and desperate.

Afterwards, Sherlock would be completely wrapped around him, like he was the gift-wrapping and his big brother the gift.

If they watched telly Sherlock would be sleeping in his brother’s lap or curled up and cuddled into his side, hands held with fingers interlaced, rubbing his thumb against his lover’s cool soft skin, kissing their joined hands.

When they had dinner they would sit next to each other, their toes tangled under the table. Mycroft took the greatest pleasure in feeding him, sometimes the entire meal, spoonful by spoonful as Sherlock glowed under his fond gaze.

They had, neither of them, ever been as blissfully happy as they were now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benediction= prayer asking for divine blessing. Yup :) and Benedict Cumberbatch= answer to those prayers LOL


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock had been very upset that week at the need for this constant secrecy, and the realization that this could be possibly their reality for the rest of their lives. He was finding it difficult to maintain a façade in public and so the experiment began on how to Mind the Gap.

The nature of their biological relationship meant however that such intimacy would have been considered not only improper by most but was even illegal, so they needed to be extremely careful once they crossed the threshold of the home and moved in public spaces.

It was doubly difficult because they had to not only avoid intimacy but also actively maintain the difficult and antagonistic relationship that everyone had gotten used to seeing.

Mycroft had become so adept at the Ice Man persona over the decades that he had no trouble maintaining the façade in public but Sherlock being inherently passionate as well as resentful of control had been finding it very difficult to manage. He was trying. He was aware. But the unlocking of his heart seemed to have unleashed such a tidal wave of love for his brother that he was genuinely unable to rein it all in.

It had been barely 6 months that they were finding their way around this. Sherlock had been very upset that week at the need for this constant secrecy, and the realization that this could be possibly their reality for the rest of their lives. So to pacify him a little, Mycroft had suggested going out for dinner at a new establishment which had been highly recommended.

Sherlock’s mood had improved at once and was in high spirits that they were able to go out together. As they sat down for dinner, he was talking nineteen to the dozen as always and his older brother was listening to him carefully and indulgently, his pride at his younger brother’s brilliance written plainly on his face.

Halfway through the meal Sherlock had reached out, quite unconsciously, towards Mycroft’s face to wipe off some sauce from the corner of his lips. Mycroft had frozen and instantly so had Sherlock. He had managed to morph the movement into a gesture and the restaurant had been busy enough that evening for no one else to have noticed but they both knew that such a slip in front of someone who was watching could be infinitely damaging.

Sherlock was extremely annoyed with himself and in a foul mood when they were returning. Just as he was about to step out from the car and return to Baker Street, he told his brother that he wanted to test how close Mycroft could get to him in a public space before he was unable to stay in complete control. He would then use that evidence to adapt his behaviour.

“After all behaviour is merely conditioning.” he had declared loftily.

Mycroft had raised one eyebrow at this suggestion but knew better than to argue with him when he was such a mood.

So the experiment began on how to Mind the Gap.

.

.

Sherlock and John were in 221B when Mycroft politely came up the stairs and greeted John.

‘Dr Watson’ he said with a nod of his head.

Sherlock continued to play the violin with his back to them both though the notes had become a bit wobbly. Mycroft sat on the chair and listened for five minutes. Then he walked up to the window, knowing that Sherlock could see him in the reflection. Sherlock promptly tensed up and almost stopped breathing.

When his brother came within two feet he stumbled in his playing and snapped “Mycroft don’t you have any wars to start somewhere.”

Mycroft gave a thin smile at that and said his goodbyes and left.

As he went down the stairs he heard John admonish his brother.

“Bit not good Sherlock! Why did you do that?! And what had he even come for?”

He didn’t wait to hear the response but later that weekend when Sherlock came over for a night, if he was especially loving to make up for having snapped at him, Mycroft didn’t exactly mention it.

.

.

The second time was a week later, at a crime scene, when Mycroft came and waited outside, standing next to his black car.

Sherlock was walking and talking and giving rapid fire deductions to the D.I when he suddenly saw his brother and stopped mid-sentence, then picked up and continued till they came closer and closer and at one point he stopped talking completely, just looking at Mycroft, a slow flush rising up his face.

“Hey sunshine, what happened?” asked Greg and turned to see what was distracting the genius.

He saw Mycroft waiting there, leaning gently on his umbrella, an odd, almost apologetic smile on his face. Greg nodded at him, puzzled by his presence there, a scant two feet away from his police tape.

_Was MI6 getting involved in this locked room murder?_

But then Mycroft returned his nod and even more perplexingly, got back into his car and drove off.

_‘What had that been all about?’_ thought Greg. He looked at John for an explanation but the doctor just shrugged back at him as if to say “ _Holmes. Who knows what goes on inside their genius brains?”_

Sherlock had swirled away from them both in the meanwhile and was busy hailing a taxi, scowling heavily as he did so.

.

.

The third time was at a gala they had both been present at. Mycroft because he was one of the patrons and Sherlock because he had been invited and it was one of those very rare occasions he chose not to avoid. It was a fund raiser organized by a charity that supported the families of policepersons injured or killed in the line of duty.

Mycroft was of course working the floor in his usual suave and distantly polite way while Sherlock was standing in a corner, barely talking to anyone. John had been unable to come and he was conscious of being on the radar of D.I. Lestrade who was always wary when the genius was alone and in the midst of crowds.

A young policewoman had cornered Sherlock and was talking to him about John’s blog and he was attempting to respond in a somewhat polite way when suddenly he lost track of his thoughts altogether.

He took a deep breath. That spicy cologne. That hint of wool and leather. That undefinable whiff of power and perfection that made all his senses tingle.

It could only be Mycroft.

He looked over his shoulder to find his brother standing a couple of feet behind him, dapper and elegant as ever, tilting his head in acknowledgment.

Greg watched as Sherlock turned and abruptly left the function. Mycroft continued a brief conversation with the baffled young policewoman and then continued to move around the room, speaking to a few more people before he sat down at the dinner table.

_Something decidedly odd was going on here_ thought Greg, _but hey as long as they are not destroying anyone else, I can live with this_ he figured and took his own place at the dining table too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock concludes his experiment but Mycroft being Mycroft is not easy to get the measure of is he?

The earlier evening, Sherlock had informed John that he would be staying at Mycroft’s place after the Gala. John had appeared to be mildly surprised given how the brothers barely seemed to tolerate each other. _I wonder what is going on with them._

“Good luck with that.’ he had said and settled back to slowly typing out his blog using one finger of each hand.

So when Sherlock left the gala that night he had taken a taxi and gone to Mycroft’s home. He had gone into his Mind Palace and worked out how he was going to condition his responses better and was waiting on the sofa, in his T-shirt and pyjamas, when his brother got back an hour later.

“You should have waited for me Sherlock.” Mycroft said as he loosened his tie and opened his coat buttons and sat down next to him.

Sherlock just flapped his hands at him as if to say BORING and launched into his findings.

“Mycie, I have concluded my experiment now and it shows that we can manage a distance of two feet.”

Mycroft paused a beat and said, “You mean YOU can manage a distance of 2 feet.”

Instantly Sherlock sensed a challenge and turned around and sat on his brother’s lap, straddling him with his long lean legs, arms linked around his neck.

“Oh, really?!” he said in a provocative tone, always ready to push limits. “So you think you can manage less?!”

Mycroft held him tenderly around the waist and looked into those beautiful eyes and fell in love with him anew as he did every single day.

“Brother mine,” he said softly. “You always misunderstand. Even after all this time. I have been able to hide it from the entire world but even you do not see it? ”

He leaned forward and barely brushed their lips together and then tilted his head back to look at him again.

“No distance works for me, my love. No distance at all.”

“Oh My,” breathed Sherlock, realizing once again that there were truly were no limits to his brother’s love for him.

“Mine.” said Mycroft with a slow smile.

.

.

And then they did Mind the Gap and closed it as much as they possibly could.

 

 


End file.
